Image via Perigy Productions.
Writer-director Stuart Howes has created something captivating with his debut feature Tableau, that delicately explores relationship dynamics through the eyes of Nicole (Sophia Smith). Coming to terms with the end of college and actively pursuing a career in photography, she is torn between artistic opportunities in Paris and an idyllic family upbringing. However, one simple act of honesty from her mother (Amy Davis) and father (Dimi Bissing) threatens to unbalance everything.
With a self-assurance which belies his BBC background, writer-director Stuart Howes delivers an understated exploration of the human condition that is subtly disarming. Channelling a combination of Colbie Smulders and Katie Holmes, Tableau rests its success on the performance of Sophia Smith. Thankfully, her naturalism combined with a sense of family which bonds this ensemble together slowly lets audiences in.
Image via Perigy Productions.
Composer Joshua Allman is also integral to Tableau since his evocative melodies underpin emotional moments and complement the cinematography of Rudy Kovasckitz. As Nicole pushes herself further and further away from family and friends, unable to cope with a revelation of infidelity, Howes focuses on emotional distance rather than disruption to make his point. Conversations flow and the script feels organic rather than stilted, making this low-key family melodrama undeniably honest.
The creative inclusion of subtitled French throughout also injects Tableau with a European vibe. By merging arthouse cinema within contemporary melodrama, Howes conveys so much more with mood than words could ever manage. That arthouse ethos is exemplified further by the flawless framing that intentionally reflects his title choice. Captured under streetlamps as Nicole and Alex (Cade Gass) connect or confined within a static frame in conversation with her mother, Tableau moves beyond obvious arthouse references and strives for something timeless.
Image via Perigy Productions.
In truth, between the flawless performances and economic storytelling, it is baffling how this all fits into 72 minutes. For all that technical mastery and innate ability to tap into universal themes, Tableau possesses no whistle and bells. Howes never draws attention to himself by being overly indulgent either on paper or otherwise. That self-assurance which gives audiences the confidence to follow Nicole on her journey in those opening minutes never falters. Not only that, but there seems to be an intentional lack of agenda when it comes to offering his emotional opinion.
Like an observational interloper, this writer-director observes but leaves any interpretation for others to decide on. There is a pleasure in connecting with films on this level, where audiences are asked to work towards their own emotional resolution. By the same token, Tableau is a film that rewards those willing to invest in an idea that relationships, especially those closest to home, can come unstuck easily. They require constant work, constant commitment, and more than anything honesty. Without that things break down and people drift apart. If Tableau teaches us anything it illustrates the fickle nature of unpredictable people, especially those closest to home.
Image via Perigy Productions.
Tableau is available now on DVD or Blu-ray and digital download.